


Hold Me Tight

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: A few long and silent seconds, Caleb becomes very, very still, his brain straining and creaking, the mental equivalent of two gears tearing one another apart.“Hold me.” He manages to croak, eventually, “And don’t- don’t let go.”





	Hold Me Tight

“Oh, no, come on now, darling.” Molly catches Caleb’s arm and pulls him back as he goes to slip away, “No separating from us in a place like this, it’s just not safe. You may be more powerful now, but you’re still squishy, can’t have you on my conscience.”   
He slips his arm to loop through Caleb and smiles at Jester as she giggles and turns away. He rakes his eyes over the others, makes sure they’re not watching when he leans in, closer to Caleb’s ear,   
“You need time away?”   
Caleb just nods, mutely, and Molly plasters back on the smile waves with his free hand,   
“Though I see no harm in dragging our wizard with  _ me _ to pick up some new tea, I’m all out of my lavender blend and the nightmares have been  _ Gods-awful _ lately. Is that agreeable to everyone?”   
Caleb doesn’t respond verbally, but squeezes his arm, something Molly knows as acceptance. The others hum idle agreements, Nott looks up at him with wide amber eyes.   
“Do you want me to come?”   
It’s not directed at Molly, it’s directed at Caleb, and Molly smiles that she understands him, what he’s trying to do.   
Caleb smiles too. Weaker than Molly’s, far more tired, and he leans and tilts ever so slightly closer,   
“ _ Nein _ , Nott, it will be okay.” And he looks up to Molly, the exhaustion in his eyes evident, “Mollymauk will take care of me.”   
“You trust him?” Molly pretends not to hear Nott’s hiss as she leans closer, and he feels Caleb shrug.   
“To trust someone is to be foolish, to trust a situation to them is not so much. And, evidently, Mollymauk and I think on the same thoughts, Nott- it will be okay. Keep the others safe.”   
Molly pretends he doesn’t hear any of that, either. It’s between them, none of his business, and Caleb respects Molly’s privacy when he asks for it. It’s fair that he does the same for Caleb.   
The wizard is cuddling closer, it concerns Molly more than thrills him, because it’s a sign of Caleb breaking down. Catatonic and untouchable, or cuddly and needy, they’re Caleb’s two breakdown modes and Molly is in the middle of one of them. He’s happy to have Caleb’s warmth at his shoulder though, won’t argue with it as long as Caleb is comfortable, they both hum a farewell to Nott and turn down a side street.

 

They don’t go anywhere near a store, not now that they’re away and alone, and Molly loosens his iron grip in case Caleb wants to pull away, gives him that space, but Caleb does the opposite. Pauses them, quietly, silently in an alleyway and pushes Molly up against a wall. Shoves with his shoulder until Molly’s back bumps against brick.  
“Is everything alright?” For something that should be intimidating, or concerning, Molly takes it all well in stride. His concern for Caleb overrides anything else that could possibly have filled that gap in his emotions, and he lets Caleb draw back a bit, head dropped and eyes on the floor.   
“Ah- no. Yes? I- I’m not, sure.” Caleb stumbles his way through the sentence, and Molly lets out a soft sigh, an affectionate sigh, his fingers flex against his thighs with the desire to do _something_. To _help._   
“Take your time.” He soothes, as Caleb’s hands come up and click and Frumpkin materialises around his shoulders, he scritches and strokes at the cat.  
Caleb drops back to silence, he tries to think but his brain just won’t, _quite, make… it_.  
“If I ask you questions,” Molly says, quiet so as not to push the attention, “Do you think it will help?”  
Caleb’s cat stroking rhythm switches up a little, and he gives a miniscule nod.  
“Is it something wrong with _other people_?” He asks, quiet, puts a hand to Caleb’s shoulders feather-light, guides him up against the wall, and withdraws.  
Caleb swallows a couple of times, and shrugs, shakes his head, his fingers bunch in Frumpkin’s fur a little too tight. Frumpkin gives a _mrrw_ of disdain, and Caleb lets his fingers fall loose again.  
“You can hold my hand, if it’ll help.” Molly offers, holds his hand out to Caleb, the side by Frumpkin’s head.  
Caleb stares for a few seconds. And slowly, slowly, reaches out and takes his hand. Molly laces their fingers together and lets Caleb adjust a few moments before continuing.  
“Alright, then. Is it something with _you_?”  
Caleb squeezes his fingers and nods, slowly, Molly smiles for him.  
“You’re doing so well, Caleb. I’m so proud. Do you want to go back to the inn? You can come to my room-”  
Caleb’s head is already shaking, and Molly hushes at the speed of it,  
“It’s okay! It’s alright, sweetheart, I won’t make you do anything that you don’t want to.”  
Caleb wordlessly squeezes Molly’s fingers.  
“Can you tell me what you need?”  
A few long and silent seconds, Caleb becomes very, very still, his brain straining and creaking, the mental equivalent of two gears tearing one another apart.  
“Hold me.” He manages to croak, eventually, “And don’t- don’t let go.”  
And of course, Molly is more than happy to oblige. He’s gentle, at first, just the lightest embrace, and then Caleb buries deep into his shoulder. Wraps his arms around Molly’s neck so damn tight that he thinks his neck might snap.  
So he returns the favour, winding around Caleb’s waist hard enough to make his spine click in three places, the two of them lean up against an alley wall in a hug that borders painfully tight, but it’s the necessary. And Molly has no complaints, from helping Caleb to receiving the affection he craves, this is idyllic for him.  
“Darling, I’m happy to provide this service.” Molly says, warm and quiet, “But it may be easier back at the inn, if you’re up to it. No need to alert the others, you know? I’ve my own room this time, Fjord is… something like sick of me.”  
Caleb feels Molly’s smile in the cheek pressed to his own, and inside, he smiles too. He can’t seem to make his body do the same, though.  
“That is perhaps the best course of action.” Caleb says, his voice steadier now, and Molly draws back and away just enough.  
“Would you like to hold my hand, on the way?” Molly’s fingers flex in Caleb’s grip, and he’s sure that Molly’s playful smirk has a background of nervousness, and Caleb clamps his grip down just that little bit harder.  
“You are not letting go of me. Please. Do not let go.”  
Molly gives a breath of laughter, leaning in and kissing Caleb’s forehead.  
“If that’s what you want, my love, I will never let go.”  
They begin to move, slowly and stealthily away, and as they sneak along the edge of a main street, Caleb turns fractionally to Molly.  
“When you- hm. When you address me as, as, those affectionate- I mean, you call Nott and Jester darling often enough, but-”  
Molly cocks his head,  
“You already know the answer to this question, Caleb.”  
Caleb misses a beat before replying,  
“I- I think that I do but I can never, never really be sure.”  
They turn down another back alley,  
“Why can’t you be sure?” Molly asks, and squeezes, just in case Caleb thinks he’s being aggressive. Caleb doesn’t reply for another two alleyways.  
“I don’t deserve it. I can’t believe that, you, of all people, so perfect…”  
Molly twists at their hands until he’s got Caleb pinned to the wall. Gentle this time. Keeps his own eyes dropped for Caleb’s comfort, rests his forehead to the wizard’s.  
“What was that, you called me?”  
Caleb gulps, and raises his eyes slowly, to Molly’s face.  
“I- hm. I… Perfect?”  
Molly tilts that last few, gentle inches and _kisses Caleb_. Not so hard that Caleb couldn’t pull away if he didn’t want it, and he probably should have asked, but Caleb presses back and then it’s okay. Molly feels the fingers of Caleb’s free hand dig into the hair at the back of his neck, and that’s the last thing before he loses himself in the sensation.  
When they pull apart, their breathing is only slightly heavier, rougher, Caleb is deep pink and Molly a red-violet.  
“Couldn’t wait ‘til the inn.” Molly says, smirks, “You just looked so gorgeous now.”  
Caleb _smiles_. Victory for Mollymauk.  
“We should go back anyhow.” He says, and begins to pull. Molly follows suit.  
“Yeah, you look like you could do with a rest.”


End file.
